<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Objection Your Honour by midnightfeast</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156286">Objection Your Honour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightfeast/pseuds/midnightfeast'>midnightfeast</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Attorney Madara, Judge Tobirama, M/M, the one where you lose all brain to mouth filter when you are close to your soulmate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:00:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightfeast/pseuds/midnightfeast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Judge Tobirama Senju, deliberately stone faced and thoughtful, finally raised his voice to acknowledge him. “Madara Uchiha... I have to admit, I expected to receive a different Uchiha, but it is nice of you to honour us with your presence anyway.”</p><p>Oh, Madara felt anger rise like bile in his throat. Senju gave him nothing more than another long, analytical look. “I assume that Mr. Izuna Uchiha has been prevented from joining us by urgent matters.”</p><p>Or, defence attorney Madara Uchiha has to spontaneously step in for his brother at court and meets Judge Tobirama Senju for the first time and they are in for an unprecedented surprise. A soulmate story nobody asked for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Touka/Uchiha Izuna mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>278</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Objection Your Honour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've been musing and overthinking this story for far too long... You know, when you start to get really annoyed by your own sentences, because you've read them fifty times already? So I'm not even sure if this story is any good... Well, here it is anyway, because I can't deal with it any longer.</p><p>Quick disclaimer, I did learn about divers legal systems at uni, but my personal insight into the happenings at a court and attorney's office is limited. Some parts of this story may reflect more on common law systems, others are more influenced by my own civil law system, so just know that this is how I found it suited this story best :)<br/>Therefore, don't look at the details too closely ;)</p><p>Also, english is not my first language.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Izuna called while Madara was still stuck in an inner city traffic jam and impatiently switched channels to find a reliable traffic report. “Hey Mads.”</p><p>His phone was connected to the Bluetooth speaker, so Madara got the full experience of Izuna’s sniffles in high quality blast and he had to lower the volume. “You sound even worse than earlier. How is that possible?”</p><p>“Ah, thanks brother-dearest.” His sarcasm would've been dry, but a wet cough disrupted his delivery just as much as the rasp of his voice. Izuna's voice was hoarse and cracked with every vowel, the coughs had Madara’s skin crawl with phantom droplets.</p><p>“Quit talking and catch some more sleep. Why are you calling?”</p><p>“Here I sat and thought it'd be nice to check in on how you're doing and now you're being like this.”</p><p>“Well, have you opened the fucking news?” Madara kept a close eye on the red car ahead of him that kept ignoring the corridor for emergency vehicle access everyone else had been careful to maintain. “Someone drove into a wall and now every working citizen and their mother is stuck here in this traffic jam on the city's motorway. Might be a matter of minutes or hours, I honestly don't know.”</p><p>“Damn.” And then Izuna broke into more serious coughing.</p><p>Just five hours ago, in the dead of night, Izuna had called to tell him that he had had vomited and fevered, and had probably come down with the flu. That was bad in itself, but Madara had cursed him to the sun and back, because it meant that <em>someone</em> needed to replace him at court.</p><p>The Bawaka case was one that had Izuna annoyed for ages and it would come to an end today if all went well.</p><p>So that <em>someone</em> had to be Madara.</p><p>No one else was even remotely familiar with Izuna’s case and this was no time for rooky mistakes. Madara had raced to work long before sunrise and gotten into his brother’s files. The important things Madara already knew, Izuna talked through things with him often enough, but as usual there were some things he wanted to get exactly as Izuna had intended them to go.</p><p>So he had called him and Izuna had given his best to talk him through the heavier stuff, but with only a little over three hours, Madara was not sure whether this was going to be a success. Better than calling in and losing even more time.</p><p>But now Madara was growing actually worried. “You know, this sounds serious. Should I come over later?” Madara threw a glance in the rear mirrow. “I could raid the pharmacy and stop at that vietnamese hole-in-the-wall to get you some pho.”</p><p>“I wouldn't wanna pass whatever the heck this is onto you too. We need at least one competent person at the office.”</p><p>“Did you call your doctor?”</p><p>“Toka's on the line with her right now. But honestly, I feel better already. I hope I can be back on track by monday.”</p><p>“Toka's sick too?”</p><p>“She's not feeling great, no.”</p><p>“Please, just make sure it's not something serious and get some actuall rest. My offer stands. Let me know if you need anything.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I will. Are you there yet?”</p><p>“Almost, I’m at the Ashura Otsutsuki memorial, they closed down two lanes on K21, so I'm not sure if I’ll make it in time. Traffic's flowing at least.” Madara’s fingers thrummed on the steering wheel, but there was no actual way to telepathically will the car in front of him to move faster or at least out of the way.</p><p>Izuna sighed deeply. “Senju hates it when people are late.”</p><p>“Well, I’m sure I’m not the only one stuck here. DA Nara has to make it there from the other end of Konoha. He’s always late as it is so there is no way he’ll be on time.”</p><p>At that, Izuna huffed a very rough laugh and his voice broke halfway through, it was a real throwback to their teenager-days. “You know, Senju is intimidating enough that even DA Nara at least tries to be punctual.” Madara prepared to bite back with something along the lines of `if I could move every single car out of the way to get there in time I would´, but Izuna had apparently decided to change the topic. “Did Bakawa easily agree to the replacement or did you bully him into acceptance?”</p><p>Now Madara was the one laughing bitterly. “What choice does he have? Hopefully we’ll have more luck with this new jury, but in my opinion, he's fucked and, honestly, I don't even care. He's too much of an asshole.”</p><p>Every defence attorney, at some point in their career, would have a <em>client like this</em>. There was just no way around it, public duty demanded them to take cases when they were assigned by the State when the defendant couldn't pay the fees themselves.</p><p>Mr. Bakawa was being charged with theft of fifteen sports cars which amounted to a property value of around 9 million KD. <em>That</em> was no matter to joke about. Yet on top, Mr. Bakawa had had the idiocy to get caught in one of them, then flee the side and - in a wild chase with the police - cause a car accident with even more property damage and - from a legal and morally standpoint, even worse - bodily harm.</p><p>Aside from the sheer enourmous quantity of evidence against him, Mr. Bakawa was unfortunate enough to be extremely unlikeable and moronic at the same time. His talent to say exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time played into the State's hands all too well when another one of his mindless interviews and rambles - very clearly against Izuna's recommendation - led to even more compromising material.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, their case had gathered media attention, because among the sports cars supposedly taken were plenty that belonged to local celebrities like actor Sasuke Sarutobi or Mei Terumi.</p><p>Then the first trial had surprised everyone and ended with a hung jury and a possible retrial, which had only fuelled the attention. That the jurors had been unable to come to agree on even one count of charges had been extremely unexpected. So much so that an investigation into possible blackmail or bribery had been launched and Izuna had fumed.</p><p>(A hung jury neither declared the innocence or guilt of a defendant, so it was up to the DA to drop the charges or to retry one or several. Bad luck really, that DA Nara was sure enough of his case to retry all the charges, but there was nothing they could do about that.</p><p>Months it had taken to work through evidence and witnesses the first time, to have to do it again was really not in any of their interests. At least they got paid.)</p><p>More than anything, Izuna wanted this case to be over and that Madara could sympathise with that sentiment wholeheartedly. This had taken far too much time out of Izuna’s life, it was time to get this trial over with once and for all. Izuna swore he had grown his first grey hair over this disaster of a case.</p><p>So Izuna had been especially resignated when he had seen who would be judge in this second trial.</p><p>Tobirama Senju was presiding judge of the court’s third department and all cases that fell into that were within Izuna’s specialisation so these two had met plenty already.</p><p>Of course Madara was more than qualified to step in for Izuna, just as Izuna was well versed in the sort of cases Madara usually dealt with, but it still took a hefty amount of energy to get into the gist of an unpractised field.</p><p>Izuna coughed again and then he talked to someone in the background, too small for Madara to pick up, but Izuna laughed shortly after, “Toka says `hi´and sends her greetings.”</p><p>“Nice, best wishes to her. You two've been laughing on my expense?” He asked and immediately regretted even mentioning it.</p><p>“Ah, no. She said I sound like I deep throated all night, which is not entirely true, but we did have some fantastic sex at the kitchen counter yesterday before I felt-”</p><p>“Great.” Madara disrupted him through gritted teeth. “Please ask Toka to leave the room so we can talk in peace.”</p><p>“I thought you liked my unfiltered self.”  Izuna took it in good humour, just like Toka only ever gave token resistance when she was asked to let them talk in peace for a minute or two. “It's quite unfair really, you've gotten plenty of blackmail material over the years and I have none.”</p><p>“Too bad. Please, I'll buy her dinner if she gives us five more minutes.”</p><p>“Fool, you hand her a hand and she'll take your entire arm- hey!” Madara could hear them bicker for half a minute, but as usual, when one of his brothers was soul-speaking, Madara tried not to listen in too closely so Madara focused on the bumper sticker on the car in front of him.</p><p>Some people took it easier than others. While Izuna had never had a problem with revealing huge chunks of personal information seemingly at random, Madara thought of himself as someone a bit more reserved.</p><p>And soul-speaking was no joke.</p><p>With close physical proximity to one's soulmate came the uncontrollable urge to just... let the words flow and it had the very real possibility to mess up business and families. No secret was safe, no decorum kept in place, no contract was binding enough to stop it.</p><p>In that at least, Madara felt lucky to not have a soulmate. Sure, he had his outbursts. He was not ashamed to call out the truth, but when it came to his personal life and his most personal thoughts, he prefered to keep those to himself. The idea of that much personal matter left open for everyone to see was just...</p><p>Madara physically shivered.</p><p>Maybe that was half the reason he had never done any real effort to find his soulmate either.</p><p>The other half was probably added by his father's difficult relationship with his bondmate and his mother's grief with her dead one.</p><p>Well, there were different medications to block soul-speaking for more official appointments (like registrations or house viewings or doctor's appointments), professional luncheons or more serious family gatherings (like funerals or weddings).</p><p>But Izuna always complained about the side-effects that came along with them like headaches and itchiness. And for casual family events, the usage of medication was unusual.</p><p>Izuna and Toka were still discussing something, although Madara got the inkling that their topic of conversation had drifted to something more pleasant, so he interupted. “Izuna, hey, I don’t need your saucy truthfulness right now, I need you focused and well-mannered.”</p><p>“Just a sec.” Then his voice became muffled, but when he came back he sighed. “Toka went back to bed, so filters should be back. Sorry, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”</p><p>“Liar.” Izuna was too comfortable with him to ever feel embarrassed or apologise for any of his filterless rants. “Stop riling me up or I'll be an easy kill for Nara.”</p><p>All Izuna did was snort. “Find yourself a soulbond too and you’ll never complain again.”</p><p>“No, thank you.”</p><p>“Well, if you never sign up to any of the matching services it’s no surprise you’ll die unhappy and alone.”</p><p>“How exactly did you come to that conclusion?”</p><p>“Please, Mads. You'e past thirty and still go home to mom and dad for Sunday Lunch. If that isn't a sign, I don't know what is.”</p><p>“You're just jealous, because I'm the favourite and still get invited.” The Sunday Lunch hot pot with their mother's home-made broth had always been a sibling-favourite. And a sore spot as it seemed.</p><p>“Shut up. I get invited too, you know. I'm just too busy to go most times.” Izuna pressed out between teeth, but it had no bite with his horrid voice.</p><p>Madara snorted and changed lanes to get away from the driver that apparently couldn’t stay within their lines. Someone cut into his lane not two seconds later and Madara had to hit the breaks.</p><p>Izuna must've heard him cuss, but he kept on arguing. “You know, somewhere out there is someone waiting that you finally take that stick outta your ass and fill out that registration document. It's not that hard honestly, only takes ten minutes and a little bit of blood. You've been wondering for years what sort of person would match with you, well, that better half of yours has probably been doing the same.”</p><p>Clinical testing was the way it was done nowadays. Fill out a questionair, take a bit of blood for the matching, wait for a confimation letter. Efficient, fast, global. It guarenteed that as long as both partners were registered with any database, they would be matched.</p><p>Madara was not worried about the registration, but the <em>afterwards</em>. Meeting someone that had been scientifically confirmed to be your ideal partner in life, crime or business, but what if... </p><p>Not every bond was made to be romantic. In fact, most weren't.</p><p>Just like everyone else, Madara had had relationships with people outside his soulbond. There was no set path in life and that applied even if some biological markers indicated compatibility for successful cooperation with one person specifically.</p><p>His brother Myoko and his soulmate, a small curvy woman that hid the devil in her sweet smile, were successful business partners and happily married to other people.</p><p>Izuna and Toka had started as team mates for some weird online game and they'd been each other's wing-(wo)men for quite some time. Only recently, they've started to date.</p><p>His younger brothers, Toga and Kuro had given another affirmative example towards the hypothesis that soulbonds between twins were more common than normal siblings. Either way, they shared a room at college, clothes and otherwise led very different lifes.</p><p>Madara’s father and his soulmate had chosen years ago to stay in minimal contact because they felt no amicable spark whatsoever. Madara’s mother had lost hers quite young.</p><p>A soulbond came with long-term consequences, committment and responsibilities, soul-speaking was only the peak of the iceberg. And Madara was not sure wheter he was ready to throw himself into all that only to find out that the person he was bound to found him disappointing or was disappointing to him.</p><p>The earliest age at which people could apply for a registration was twenty and Madara had long passed that.</p><p>At ten, he had been sure he would go to the registry first thing on the morning of his twentieth birthday just like his parents had done. In fact, plenty of people did it that way, just like most people had the urge to drive right after they got their license or buy some alcohol as soon as they were of age.</p><p>Even Madara himself wasn't sure why he hadn't just registered like everyone else, but somehow he had felt... out of place.</p><p>And if his soulmate was anything like him, they most likely hadn't signed up either. At least that’s what Madara told himself to hold of the inevitable and the feeling of guilt.</p><p>Because by now...</p><p>Fourteen years had passed since he could've taken that first step and there really was no point in registering now. Most likely, his soulmate had forgotten about him, had made a life for themselves and it would be the peak of egocentrism to stumble in and demand a place in their too now after all this time.</p><p>“I could still come across them at the bakery. I'll much rather meet them like this without... all that...” He became acutely aware that he sounded like his long dead grandfather who used to bitch about modern technology because he most often didn't quite understand it.</p><p>Izuna broke into bellowing laughter and then had a coughing fit. “You’re not the main character in a romance novel, you know. No one just stumbles upon their soulmate anymore. You’ll never-”</p><p>“Enough talking about my horrible private life.”</p><p>“No, seriously Mads, you live like a hermit. When was the last time you went out with someone?”</p><p>“Izuna, enough.”</p><p>“Jeez, okay! Calm your tits and back to our <em>other</em> topic then.” As if to punish him, Izuna violently blew his nose right into the speaker. “About that one note I left-”</p><p>“The one on the front page of the file?”</p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p>And back to work it was.</p><p> </p><p>Madara was late. Ten minutes would have been a significant misstep, twenty was bad, but fourty minutes was horrid. Hopefully Senju wouldn't rip his head off.</p><p>At least there was designated parking space behind the back of the building and a decently sized free spot.</p><p>It was windy outside, so on the short sprint from his car to the backdoor, his hair got fluffed up, his tie blew around his face freely and his expensive suit gathered even more wrinkles.</p><p>Security was easily bypassed with his ID and even though Madara had never had to find that exact room, at least he knew how to find it, because the floorplan was straight forward.</p><p>The hallways were long, the ceiling high and the windows secured with special panes. A fair amount of people had tried to break out through these and a smaller number had tried to break in.</p><p>Thankfully, he was used to the robes and their floaty nature, so putting them on mid-powerwalk was not unfamiliar.</p><p> </p><p>The doors were closed as was expected, but as Madara flashed his ID yet again, the two security guards unlocked them swiftly and pulled them open to announce his arrival.</p><p> </p><p>Judge Senju had been in the midst of an introductory monologue as Madara stepped into the room, but he stopped and everyone else turned to look at him too.</p><p>The courtrooms in Konoha’s superior court were all identical. Big, partially covered in dark wood and white walls with tall windows. Tobirama Senju sat behind his bench at the front and loomed above them all. The jury was throwing curious glances, the public had started to whisper, reporters had started to scibble away on their tiny notepads.</p><p>Another security guard had been assigned to shadow Itsuki Bakawa and both of them looked nervous at Madara's entrance.</p><p>DA Nara was there already and Madara grew even more pissed when he noticed his bored side glance. The seats reserved for the media were filled well enough and a surprisingly big group of people came to watch.</p><p>Great.</p><p>Let's get this thing other with.</p><p>Madara felt the full force of Tobirama Senju's systematic gaze on him in an instant and became painfully aware that his hair was windswepped, how unflattering these robes looked wrinkled and the annoyed tension written all over his rigid shoulders.</p><p>Judge Tobirama Senju, deliberately stone faced and thoughtful, finally raised his voice to acknowledge him. “Madara Uchiha... I have to admit, I expected to receive a different Uchiha, but it is nice of you to honour us with your presence anyway.”</p><p>Oh, Madara felt anger rise like bile in his throat. Senju gave him nothing more than another long, analytical look. “I assume that Mr. Izuna Uchiha has been prevented from joining us by urgent matters.”</p><p>“He has come down with a viral infection and his physician should’ve send in an official validation by now. I’m here by proxy.”</p><p>“Very well then.” Senju beckoned him to move closer with the slow wave of a hand as he took a quick note.</p><p>Madara stepped further into the room and tried not to let his irritation show. The closer Madara got to Judge Senju, the stronger the urge to cough grew.</p><p>Awaiting almost, Tobirama Senju reached out a hand as Madara had gotten close and Madara handed him the documents that confirmed him as Izuna’s official stand-in.</p><p>Madara could feel the eyes of two-dozen people on his back, but he didn’t care. He hated to be late, he hated to leave the impression of someone careless, but at the end of the day, he didn’t care about most of these people’s opinions. The only one that held any sort of authority over the proceedings in this trial was Senju and he seemed inclined to treat this professionally.</p><p>Tobirama Senju carefully righted his glasses and looked through the documents while Madara mustered him unabashed and gave him enough time to ponder over what the sort of person Madara expected him to be.</p><p>Seldom Madara had found a man that actually looked good in these traditional, oversized, black robes, but they changed Tobirama Senju to something ethereal.</p><p>They highlighted the broadness in his shoulders, the sternness in his gaze and stood as a stark contrast to his white locks.</p><p>Madara had seen him in a suit a couple of times and therefore knew that he was fairly fit beneath these layers. The sharp edge of his face, the carefully combed back hair that disobeyed him still and fell into stubborn locks, but more than those, his posture.</p><p>Judge Senju had a reputation, but Madara’s picture of this man was scattered and more complex than most.</p><p>All his knowledge came through the stories of others, but generally, there were three very different versions of Tobirama Senju that had built itself in Madara's mind.</p><p>One of them was formed by Izuna and his late-night rants. The first time his brother had encountered Judge Senju in a trial, he had been just as new to the playing field of the court. As green as both of them had been, somehow Senju had struck a cord in Izuna, and the opposite seemed to be true too.</p><p>According to him, Judge Senju was a workaholic with high expectations. A man, who Izuna called cold and eerily composed, with a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. When Madara had asked him, whether -in his opinion - he was a good judge, Izuna had turned and mustered the plants. After a moment of thought, Izuna had said, `He has a crisp understanding of our laws and he interprets them wisely, but sometimes I wonder…´ And that had been it.</p><p>Another picture, more vivid and less three-dimensional, was painted by the publics’ perception.</p><p>Only a handful of cases got media coverage or public interest on a broader scale, but there was a significant number amongst them under Judge Senju’s supervision. Madara kept up to date with the local news and cases by necessity, but Tobirama Senju’s name had become a frequent occurrence.</p><p>Partially, he assumed, people liked to read about him simply because of his blood relation to Major Hashirama Senju. People liked a good story and a set of unlikely brothers - one stern, accomplished, unusual man with spite and spine, the other charming, approachable and attractive on the step-ladder of success- was something even Madara’s mother found interest in.</p><p>The third picture in Madara’s mind was formed by Hashirama himself. Madara’s and Hashirama’s friendship had sprouted at school, but frosted over during their college days only to be rekindled when Hashirama had become a loyal client at the Uchiha’s firm.</p><p>On a good night, Hashirama did not shut up about his `baby brothers´ and Tobirama was the one he was worried for the most. Like a broken record, Hashirama always came back to the same four things. Tobirama worked too much, was too strict with himself and needed to be more sociable. And he hadn't found his soulmate.</p><p>As close as Madara was with Hashirama and even though Izuna was soul-bound to their cousin Toka, Madara's path with Tobirama had rarely crossed.</p><p>Madara had never exchange a word or gotten closer than a couple of feet to the man Hashirama praised into the heavens. They occasionally met at events, but judged from a distance alone, there was very little in Tobirama Senju that had caught Madara’s interest.</p><p>Now, he watched him dictate a note to the court reporter with carefully-chosen words.</p><p>Madara had heard one or two speeches of his at Hashirama’s parties and had listened in on his conversations with other people, always from a distance. His voice was not as loud as Hashirama’s nor was he as careless. Despite his reservation, people grew silent and listened when he spoke.</p><p>Madara's throat started to itch again and he coughed politely.</p><p>Judge Senju’s gaze flickered up from Madara’s neat handwriting over the growd, but Madara felt like it lingered on him a second longer than anyone else. “Mr. Uchiha, I still need your ID.”</p><p>Madara sighed and rubbed his eyes. Of course, most judges here knew him and did not need formal papers to verify his identity, but well, Senju and he had never worked together before.</p><p>“My apologies, Your Honour.” Madara handed it over, but for whatever reason he felt like being bold. “Although you seemed to know me quite well.”</p><p>Judge Senju cleared his thoat once and gave him an unimpressed glance. “Well, a character like you is hard to forget, much less your hair.” Interesting. For a man that liked to listen and watch before speaking himself, he was surprisingly straight forward and unabashed.</p><p>Madara lifted a brow. Even Senju seemed surprised by himself, but took his ID and checked the dates as he left Madara standing for a minute or two while he took notes of something and then glanced up again, closed his pen with a slow and deliberate motion to give him his full attention. “Well then, should we start? Although I would love to know what kept you long enough to be this late.”</p><p>“An inner city traffic jam.”</p><p>Judge Senju gave him back his ID and the original documents of which copies had been made by now. Somewhere behind Madara, people grew annoyed with the long time all of this took. Great, the jurors probably hated him by now. Then Tobirama lifted one elegant brow. “Mr. Uchiha, an inner city traffic jam is something you could've forseen. <em>Should've forseen</em> even. And still you arrived late.”</p><p>Anger in Madara felt like popping bubbles at the back of his throat. They scratched and itched and every thought brought him further into air that felt dry enough to trigger a cough.</p><p>Madara was barely three years older than Tobirama Senju and had practiced longer than him obviously. Still, he appeared more practiced than the three meager years he had helf his office. Not because of his ashen hair and fair exterior, but to project this aura of competence needed a serious backbone. He held himself with the thoughtful confidence of a man in equilibrium with himself. Straight back, square shoulders, long movements and yet ever watchful.</p><p><em>Asshole</em>, he couldn't help but think and felt himself fluff up under some unusual electric current and when he shifted his weight slightly, he got a small electric shock right as his throat started to itch and he cleared - twice.</p><p>But that tell-tale tingle didn’t stop - he could only hope that he hadn't caught the flu from Izuna - and grew stronger, till Madara started to heave and felt the urge to vomit. That Senju himself had some very serious fit, Madara missed completely because he was to caught up with himself.</p><p>And with the next strong cough he felt something in him break.</p><p>Madara started to blurt out words before he could stop himself. “<em>Listen here you...</em>” Only physically biting his lip stopped him from saying <em>exactly what</em> he had wanted to thow into Senju's face, “I was stuck in my car for close to two hours. TWO HOURS. To get from my office in the Indra-Uchiha-Road to this fucking building and all because some thwat had decided to fuck the speed-limit and crash right into a wall with five other cars involved in the accident. Surely, sooner or later this will be a case dealt with here too, maybe this very same room, but whatever interesting story you fabricated in your mind, I assure you, I was stuck between Nara Town and Hyuuga Square with nothing to do but muster license plates. And for the record I tried to call your office, more than once may I add, and nobody picked up. You could check the traffic reports, but I assume you’re too busy for that.”</p><p>Madara stared.</p><p>Senju stared.</p><p>Silence. Complete, drowning, roaring lack of noise.</p><p>Everyone stared at him. Even Senju’s eyes widened and his shoulders froze. Apparently he himself could not grasp that Madara had just said that out loud. “Pardon?”</p><p>Madara started before he could stop himself. “I said-”</p><p>“No, I heard you just fine. Actually, I am very busy and would like to apologies for my accusations... even though your blunt delivery <em>deeply</em> irritates me.”</p><p>“Well, sorry, but maybe we could move past my outburst and move this entire shitshow along. I'm not sure why you're taking so long.”</p><p>Now the court reporter raised her voice. “Mr. Uchiha, I would like to remind you-”</p><p>But to everyone's surprise, Senju interupted her with a raised hand. “No, actually, I was just thinking something along similar lines. All of this is taking far too long and we have a collossal mountain of work to get through. I expect to be thoroughly disappointed by delivery and length of DA Nara's statement, so I hope - Mr. Uchiha - that you do not disappoint me as well or I might have a strong slip in self-control.”</p><p>Somewhere behind him, DA Nara made a noise as if he was having a stroke.</p><p>Madara was not sure what was happening. Senju wore the expression of someone that had bitten into a piece of chocolate only to find that it was made from mud.</p><p>But something was happening, Madara was actuely aware that he was rambeling more than usual, but it was like a dam had been broken. Once the barriers were gone, there was no stopping for the non-braked skid their conversation was speeding into. He just couldn't stop his mouth from opening. “Well, we have a problem then, because I only worked approximately three hours on my statement and Izuna’s cross-examination preparation does not fit my style so I had to rework almost everything, so I doubt today will be my finest work. Aside this is an abomination of a case.”</p><p>And instantly Senju blurted out into one laugh, free and uncensored, before his own hand clamped down over his own mouth to physically force himself to stop form possibly grinning. “Disappointing, I wish I could relegate you for malpractice, but that <em>is</em> impossible so I will have to bear witness to more insufferable incompetence. That your face is aesthetically pleasing to look at only partially makes up for that.”</p><p>Surprising. Madara felt his expression reflect his shock, but he was more shocked to find that there was a note of gleeful interest laced into the tuck of his lip. “Funny, I was just thinking the same.”</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>“Your face is great, but your voice is <em>especially </em>pleasant, otherwise I might have complained about the length of your prior explanation.” Madara’s mouth added and had the audacity to flip into half a smile without asking Madara for allowance first.</p><p>Senju's brow clearly furrowed into irritation, but when he cocked his head and interlaced his fingers he seemed interested still. “Well, I hope you and your brother do not share a predilection for swollen words and lengthy transcriptions. I’ll be the one filing complains otherwise.”</p><p>“I’m sure we could cut this extremly short, but sadly I would breach more than contract of confidence if I were to tell you that Mr. Bakawa is not only guilty of stealing the cars and crashing into Ms. Hanasaki’s car, but he also sold them with a considerable profit which he is still actively trying to hide in a bank account in Suna.”</p><p>Madara’s careful control didn’t even get a say. “You may ask yourself, how do I know? Well, unfortunately for Mr. Bakawa, he fucking told me. I would feel bad for telling you all this, but he is a moron of unprecedented calibre, so I only feel slight remorse.”</p><p><em>Hell no! </em>No fucking way did he just say <em>that</em>.</p><p>Madara stared.</p><p>Senju stared.</p><p>Bakawa stared.</p><p>Madara could hear the jaw of about ten people slack to the floor behind him.</p><p>That was it.</p><p>That was the final stone that hit him in the head and knocked the knowledge of what was happening right now into his brain. In now way posible would he have said any of this without some higher influence.</p><p>Either he was high and out of his mind without even knowing or...</p><p>Only one thing in their world was powerful enough to overwrite normal brain functions like this.</p><p>At least Madara had the pleasure of Senju trying to hide his mouth against his fist as he coughed again, but a single sentence came past it anyway. “Thanks, finally someone said it.”</p><p>None of this is going to count, Madara thought, and it was sort of a shame. Well…</p><p>Tobirama Senju had already lowered his face into the palm of his own hand. Out of embarrassment maybe, maybe exasperation, but he still had the mental capacity to wave over security and towards the court reporter.  “I hereby proclaim a mistrial. Nothing recorded, stated, written or said will be kept to be used against any party here presented today.”</p><p>And then he lifted his head to stare at Madara as if it was his fault personally.</p><p>And well, it sort of was. But Tobirama could only transfer half the blame onto him, because a soul-bond took two to form.</p><p>Suddenly, Madara became very aware of the luck he had had. He had spilled confidental information that in any other situation would've cost him his job and reputation and a hefty amount of money.</p><p>But the legal and political consensus that soulbonds were not to be taken advantage of had existed for a long time. They were protected and regulated by an extensive legal code, otherwise the entire field of legal defence would be eradicated if a suspect could just be questioned in the presence of their soulmate.</p><p>A breach of those regulations was only permitted in life-or-death situations.</p><p>(When time was of the essence to find a victim alive for example. Madara had been present once as a young lawyer when a soulbond had been used to force information out of a suspect to find the place two young girls had been buried and left to die from suffocation.)</p><p>Even then, interrogations were closely regulated, monitored and soul-speaking was reduced to the bare minimum necessary.</p><p>Never again would Madara tease his siblings over an embarrassing situation they had gotten themselves into because <em>this</em> would certainly top everything they could tell him.</p><p>Thankfully the court reporter stepped in with a shaken expression yet firm voice to end the trial, because Madara was not sure what else he might’ve added had Tobirama Senju not stood abruptly and left with only a final glance towards Madara.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Madara had a vague memory of how he explained the entire chaos to Bakawa and apologised for the inconvenience (Tobirama Senju wasn’t present, otherwise the truth of how fucking happy he was to be rid of him would’ve seen the daylight).</p><p>Then he stood at the water fountain of the waiting area and stared till someone asked him to move.</p><p>What was he supposed to do now?</p><p>Leave?</p><p>It felt wrong to simply go without another word.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Madara had taken off his robes and folded them back into his bag. So there he stood, clasped in his black suit, leaning against a wall, arms crossed and waiting in front of the side entrance to the judge’s chamber.</p><p>Tobirama Senju was taking his sweet time, not that Madara could blame him.</p><p>Madara could imagine that for a man of thoughtful control, of wise words and balanced arguments, it had to be utterly unnerving to be reduced to not even a single brain to mouth filter.</p><p>He himself still felt... unsure.</p><p>His life had changed.</p><p>But Madara didn’t feel all that different.</p><p>Shaken, sure, shocked too, but the bigger part in him screamed how <em>right </em>everything felt. If anything, it felt more like his entire life leading up to this moment had been the outer-body experience and he had only just now returned to himself.</p><p>And his earlier conversation with Izuna came back to the forefront of his mind.</p><p>
  <em>Izuna.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His case.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>The next thing Madara did was call his brother.</p><p>In this case specifically he might have preferred to send a convoluted text message that only partially explained the problem at hand, but there was no way he would simply write `Judge Tobirama is my soulmate and you’re rid of the case´.</p><p>That would not get the complicated mix of emotions across and rather than take it at face value, Izuna would assume someone had hacked his phone. Or held Madara at gunpoint.</p><p>“Hello.” Izuna sounded marginally better, but very surprised to hear from him. “You’re already done? Or is it an early break?”</p><p>“No, remember what we talked about earlier?” It felt like a sick joke, honestly. Bad foreshadowing.</p><p>“Uh, did you decide to sign up for matching? I can request the papers in your name if you like.”</p><p>“No, hear me out. This is first and foremost about the case. Senju had to declare a mistrial.”</p><p>Izuna took a deep breath and groaned. “No fucking way! How?!”</p><p>It felt wrong to say it out loud. Like dust settled on his tongue. “A soul-bond.”</p><p>“Shit! During the trial? I thought that only happened in the movies. Isn’t that the plot of mom’s favourite series `Robes and Roses´.”</p><p>Was it? He could never tell this story to his parents or siblings, he would never live it down otherwise. Madara rubbed his face. “It was less rosy and more horrifying.”</p><p>“Who is it? No! Wait!” Izuna sounded all to cheerful. There weren’t that many options. “Senju and Bakawa. A match made in heaven.” And he snickered despite coughing fit that reminded painfully of his own embarrassment not ten minutes ago.</p><p>“No…”</p><p>“Who then?”</p><p>“Me.”</p><p>Izuna screamed into the speaker and Madara had to lower the volume again. “NO! You’re joking!”</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>“With whom? Bakawa? Nara? But you’ve talked so often, you should’ve noticed before.”</p><p>Time to ease his brother into this gently.</p><p>Or simply drop the bomb and deal with the utter destruction afterwards. “Tobirama Senju.”</p><p>Theatrically, Izuna gasped, then laughed hysterically in what had to be an attempt to laugh this off as a joke. “You’re kidding. Please Mads, you’re joking, right?”</p><p>“I assure you, I’m dead honest.” And he really sounded honest. Madara knew, because this was his grandma-is-dead voice.</p><p>Izuna realised too. “Shit.” And after a long break of tense silence… “Fuck! And now?”</p><p>“I’ll wait for Senju to come out of the chamber and maybe we’ll talk. I don’t know. But did you even listen? You're rid of the case.” Izuna would never work with Tobirama again. To sit a trial on opposite parties when one was <em>married, soulbound, closely related, related by marriage or related by soulbond</em> was prohibited.</p><p>“Yeah, I heard you. I just can't believe it. I mean, Bakawa was fucked either way. All he can hope for is that the next jury likes whiny assholes. Or that the new DA will have as a historical fuck up.” Izuna sighed deeply. “The only thing he hasn’t yet done to dismantle his case, is admit that he did it within jury’s earshot.”</p><p>Madara had the sudden urge to laugh. “No, worry. I did that for him.”</p><p>And Izuna laughed, but broke into a cough again. “No fucking way! You did?!”</p><p>“What choice did I have? Senju admitted some juicy details too, no worries.”</p><p>“At least none of it counts officially. They’ll purge the record. They’ll have to exchange everyone.”</p><p>“Nara is probably pulling his hair out right now.”</p><p>“Senju fucking Tobirama. Man, enjoy. This is going to be so interesting. What bond do you reckon this’ll be?”</p><p>There wasn’t really a way to tell early on whether a bond would be romantic or amicable or neithe, but a highly discussed topic were certain signs that apparently showed an inclination in either direction.</p><p>Teen magazines were filled with ten-easy-questions-to-find-out-which-bond-will-fit-you-best and fifteen-early-signs-your-soulmate-will-be-<em>the-one</em>, as in <em>the one to marry</em>.</p><p>However Madara didn’t want to think about any of those right now. Nope. Nada. None of it.</p><p>No implications whatsoever. “No idea.” That second, the door to the chamber opened and Madara used that as his chance to cut Izuna short. “Bye.”</p><p>Madara pocketed his phone and straightened.</p><p>Tobirama had a bag shouldered and his robes folded only once and still slung over his arm to reveal a simple black suit and a white tie.</p><p>As soon as his eyes fell on Madara, his face slipped from concentrated tension to displeasure and something more complex.</p><p>Madara only cocked his head to muster him longer, but he could feel the tell-tale itch in his throat. It would lessen with time, he had heard, the physical symptoms would mellow when he stopped fighting the urge to burst out with absolutely anything.</p><p>The <em>bursting out</em>, however, would stay, there was no way to stop the stream of words aside from blockers and physically restraining his mouth or vocal cords.</p><p>So this time, Madara tried to relax into his thoughts... yet nothing came out, but... “Hey.”</p><p>Tobirama Senju seemed tired, tense, a frown around the brows and as he mustered Madara, his mouth twitched into something like dread. “Hello.”</p><p>Madara had the sudden urge to be truthful with him, which he was forced to be anyway, but his intention softened his words. “It really is a pleasure to meet you, although I had imagined a moment less nerve-racking to form a soul-bond... especially since neither of us had been expecting it.”</p><p>Anger flashed over Tobirama Senju's face and he stepped forward to pull the door close behind him. “You could’ve had that, a calm moment somewhere more private, but you never registered for a clinical match so we can be <em>happy</em> that we got something like this instead...” Madara’s opened his mouth, but Tobirama had already taken a deep breath, turned to lock the door and soldiered on. “I just lost a month worth of work, Uchiha, so I’m not sorry to ask you to spare me the additional headache of this conversation. Call me once you finished your report on the incident and posted it to the President of the Court.”</p><p>“Your Honour-”</p><p>Tobirama interrupted with a sharp look. “I will never again be presiding judge in a trial of yours nor will you be public defender in a trial of mine. There are clear laws prohibiting it and we just lend a primary example as to why and I'm certain that our case will be taught to some poor college kid as a case with precedent. I would prefer it if you called me by my name.”</p><p>“Fine then, <em>Tobirama</em>.” A lot of information, but Madara was still stuck on the implications from before. “You... were waiting for your soulmate - me - to sign up?”</p><p>And over the back fabric of his suit, Tobirama threw him a strict, red glare. The way he bit his lips told Madara that he wanted to say something, but didn't. His key was bound to his trousers by a thin metallic chain and it rattled when he chose the right one as he fully turned to lock the door. “I’m sure my brother will be happy to send you my number and maybe you will get a reply from me. It fully depends on whether I've gotten over the utter embarrassment of this trial and all those years I’ve waited for a letter from you. ”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” And Madara really meant it. He had felt guilty and selfish before, but his own anxious nerves and the anonymity had eased the idea that his soulmate was probably waiting for him.</p><p>Tobirama stood still and mustered the wooden structure of the door. “You know, one could say I was lucky, at least I knew you weren’t dead or insane, because then I would've gotten a letter eventually. Afterall, even the dead and the mentally challenged get registered.” His keys rattled as he let them slid into his bag, but he turned his head enough to glance at Madara for a single second. “Eleven years is a long time to get familiar with the idea that your soulmate simply does not even <em>want</em> <em>to know your name</em>, don’t you think? By now, I had assumed you held no interest in a soulbond whatsoever.”</p><p>“That was not my intention.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sure. I can assure you, I feel guilty and selfish for my accusations, it was your personal right to refrain from matching, but…” And at that point Madara could see that Tobirama had rested his forehead against the dark wood of the door. “But as you can see, you have front row seats to my unravelling, because some part of me still aches.” Then he straightened completely and repositioned his bag. “If not forced through... our bond, I would not have told you any of this.”</p><p>Madara barely caught any of the other micro-expressions on his face, but this one he caught right before Tobirama started walking away.</p><p>There was the tuck of his brows right into displeasure, a familiar frown of his mouth that Hashirama did too that spoke of frustrated pain and the urgency in his motions, the uncharacteristic tension with which he distanced himself.  </p><p>“Tobirama!” Madara raised his voice to make sure Tobirama could hear him. “I am sorry that this caused you so much... anguish. And I intend to make it up to you in whatever way possible. But I don’t appreciate that you draw conclusions about me or my inclinations before we even had a single <em>real</em> conversation. While I wasn't looking for my soulmate through matching, I really don't mind that I found you naturally.”</p><p>And because he had already fallen in unfamiliar territory, he didn’t even flinch when his mouth added. “<em>Please</em>.” It united a lot of different very complex pleas, a tightly knit knot of emotions, so heavy, it didn’t even sound like himself. “Just give me one chance and let’s sit down and get to know each other.”</p><p>But it had an effect. Tobirama had halted, but did not turn. “I'm sure your brother and mine told you plenty already, and frankly, I'm a bit worried about the... image that created of me.”</p><p>“I don’t fucking care about anyone’s opinion or if you’re dry and archaic and analytical. I’m perfectly capable to make up my own mind.” Madara took one last deep breath. “I’m sure my brother gave you a vivid impression of what it means to be an Uchiha too, but I can assure you, I’m very different from him.”</p><p>Tobirama's spine was just as straight, but there was a new tension in his neck and eventually he glanced over his shoulder. “I have a report to hand in in person.”</p><p>Then he sighed, so silently that Madara wasn’t sure if he had heard correctly at all. Another minute passed, neither of them moved, but eventually Tobirama added. “Pick a restaurant nearby and have food delivered. I’ll meet you at my room in thirty minutes. Then we can talk and... maybe we can take this wreck of a bond and make something decent with it.”</p><p>Relief flooded Madara. “Thank you.”</p><p>And as Tobirama started to walk away again, Madara raised his voice once more. “What sort of food do you like?”</p><p>Maybe he imagined it, but Madara thought he saw a tiny smile play around the edge of his eyes. “Fresh fish.”</p><p>Immediately, Madara panicked and froze. Where does one get fresh fish delivered within thirty minutes?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>